Like the Sun
by Everything4Everyone
Summary: What if Trisha Elric, overwhelmed with her life, had an affair? What if Al wasn't Hohenheim's son? Somehow, something so tiny as Al and Ed having different fathers changes everything. And although Trisha was the only one who knew the truth of Al's parentage, some people found out. Ed was in danger because he is the son of Hohenheim and Trisha, a Xerxian and an Ishbalan. Edward is..
1. Prologue

Trisha hurried down the street, sneaking glances behind her. She'd left Edward with Pinako, who was more than capable of taking care of him, but she still found herself worrying. After all, Ed was only two months old, and he had been born prematurely. Three and a half months early, to be exact. He shouldn't even have been born yet. And he was so small...

Trisha slipped into a house, making sure that nobody saw her. She slipped her shoes off by the door. "Albert?" Her voice rang softly in the nearly empty rooms. She stepped forward into the house. "Are you here? It's Trisha."

Footsteps echoed. "Trisha? You're here?" A man with short blond hair, just slightly darker than that of her son and husband's, dark golden eyes, a square, honest face, and a kind smile turned the corner, entering the room. He was wearing a brown suit and a green and yellow striped tie with white socks and brown dress shoes. "Trisha!" She smiled at him. He stumbled awkwardly. "Oh...Um...Do you...um...want anything? Food? A drink? Or just...um..." Trisha laughed, crossing over to put a finger on his lips. "Let's just go upstairs, Albert. We can forego formalities."

Albert blushed an interesting shade of red. "Oh...Of course, Trisha." He took her hand and led her up the stairs, her smiling sweetly the whole time. He paused outside the door to his bedroom. "Are...um...Are you sure that this is...is...um...what you want?" Trisha nodded. "I'm sure."

Blushing, Albert led her into the room. She crossed over to the bed. "Do you, or shall I?" Albert's face was so red that he looked like a tomato. "I...I guess that...I can..." She smiled, turning to him. "Then go ahead."

Albert swallowed, approaching her slowly. He stopped right in front of her, so close that they were practically touching. He leaned forwards slightly. Trisha's eyes were right in front of his, big and a deep, wise, green, shining with hidden red, and patient. Slowly, so slowly, he kissed her. She kissed right back, and slowly, they both grew more passionate, tongues fighting for dominance, and Albert slowly slid her sleeves off, baring her small shoulders. She took his tie in one hand and ripped it off. Albert kicked off his shoes. Trisha's dress slipped lower, revealing the upper half of her breasts. Albert stepped on his socks, pulling them off. Trisha pulled off his jacket, leaving him in a white shirt and his pants.

Their kiss deepened before they broke off to breathe. Trisha's dress slipped down to her stomach, now only covering her legs. Albert pulled it down the rest of the way, and Trisha stepped out of it, now wearing nothing but a pair of black lace panties. She pulled off Albert's shirt, her hands flat against his chest. She pulled down his pants, and he stepped out of them, now only in black boxers.

Suddenly, their lips crashed together again, and Albert rolled him and Trisha onto the bed. He broke off their kiss to look down and admire her. Her petite form, small limbs, and delicate skin were the very definition of beauty. The red gleam in her eyes was proof of her Ishbalan mother, and her skin shone with sweat.

Trisha pulled him back down in another kiss, which he returned gladly. Her fingers found their way under his waistband, and she tugged his boxers down. He kicked them off. His own fingers found their way to the sides of her panties, and he gently slid them off of her perfect body.

His fingers then trailed to her crotch, tangling in her pubic hair. First one, then two, then three fingers slipped inside her, moving and gently stretching, scissoring back and forth, and damn, it felt good. Trisha moaned slightly into their kiss. Then he pulled out, breaking their kiss.

Trisha reached for his erection, running her fingers down it gently, sending shivers down Albert's body. Her fingers skillfully danced across it, and he just knew that he wasn't going to last long. She stopped just before, and laid back, her opening clearly visible. He gently moved down, entering her slowly. He began to move back and forth slowly, letting her get used to the feeling, before starting to move faster and faster. Trisha clung onto him, moving her hips in time with his thrusts. Her little cries turned him on even more, and he started to move faster and harder, lifting them up and slamming them back against the bed with every thrust. He cried out as hot cum spilled from his erection, filling little Trisha up. She followed suit moments later.

Finally, spent, they laid next to each other, bodies covered in sweat, neither wearing anything. They shared one last kiss, before Trisha got up, showered, got dressed, and left to get her son and go home.

As luck would have it, Van Hohenheim came home the next day and made love to his wife. He had been gone for a month.

Trisha Elric realized that she was pregnant almost a week later. Hohenheim was ecstatic. He loved Edward so much, and having another child would be amazing.

When the child was born, Trisha knew instantly that he was not Hohenheim's son. He looked exactly like his father. It was a good thing that Albert and Hohenheim looked similar. She could pass off the darker hair as being a variation of Hohenheim's, and the eyes weren't very different than Ed's...

She named the boy Alphonse, in honor of his father, a man who had come through town and stayed for a week, and that Trisha had had both an affair and a son with, and who didn't even know that he had a son.

She never told anybody about her affair. She passed Alphonse off as Hohenheim's son, and everybody, including Hohenheim and Albert, was fooled. She brought her secret to her grave.

None of this was based on experience. I wrote this based completely off of other people's books. I apologize if it is unrealistic or poorly written. I have never experienced this, and have never seen it. So again, I apologize for my poor writing.


	2. One

Edward turned towards his little brother. Al looked back at him, his golden eyes wide and curious. Edward had succeeded in bringing back his brother's body, having used a Philosopher's Stone to negate the law of Equivalent Exchange, using the entire thing up in the process. He was still missing his arm and leg, but those were nothing compared to his brother. They were in the outer office, waiting for Mustang to finish and come out to see them. The door was open, so anybody could see in. It still made his heart skip a beat to see his precious baby brother alive and well. The younger wore a blue version of his coat, with silver pants and a silver jacket underneath, imitating his older brother. It made Edward's heart swell with love.

"Hey, Al?" Alphonse's eyes widened slightly, and he leaned forwards. "Yes, Brother?" Edward's eyes ran down his brother's body, finally stopping on his face. "You look like Mom. Your eyes have that red gleam, and your face is rounded like hers. Of course, that might change, but at least you get to look like her." His voice turned bitter at the end. He had never forgiven the universe for making him look almost exactly like his father, who he hated, instead of his mother, who he loved. Alphonse felt himself soften. "Oh, Brother..." Edward nearly winced as he saw the pity on his brother's face. He didn't need pity. Al was the one who needed it, not him.

"Red gleam?" Havoc asked, interested. Edward looked up, startled. "Our mother wasn't fully Amestrian. Her mother had red eyes, and you could always see a red gleam behind her eyes if you looked." Fuery frowned. "The only people that I know to have red eyes are the Ishbalans..." Havoc gasped. "No..." Fuery looked at them. Edward bowed his head, which was answer enough. "Our mother's mother was a full Ishbalan. Her father was Amestrian. So we're a quarter Ishbalan." Alphonse supplied. "So...we killed your people," Falman stated. Alphonse shrugged.

"What about Ed? Are his eyes tinted with red?" Breda asked curiously. Edward waved flippantly. "Come look if you want to." Fuery crouched down by Edward, looking deep into his eyes. Edward looked back, and Fuery was struck by just how deep they were, shades of gold swirling together, and so, so, so _sad_. It made Fuery want to burst out in tears, to sob and hug this person who had such sad eyes. But no matter how hard he looked, he saw nothing but gold, light gold, dark gold, heavy gold, beautiful, beautiful gold.

Fuery rocked back on his heels and sighed, defeated. "I can't find it." He admitted. Edward grinned. "Anyone else want to try?" He asked. Havoc switched places with Fuery and leaned forwards. He looked at the whites first. There was no red anywhere in them. Then he looked at his pupils. They were darker than they should be, pitch black and lightless, but definitely not red. Then slowly, hesitantly, he looked right at the iris.

Gold. Light gold, dark gold, medium gold, heavy gold, pale gold, yellow gold, white gold, black gold, so many golds, all swirling and mixing and fusing and beautiful, and so, so, so _sad_. It was heartbreaking. Havoc looked again. There was definitely no red anywhere in his eyes, and he sat back, defeated. "Nothing." He switched with Falman.

The older man was good at looking for things. He was an Information Specialist for a reason, after all. He leaned forwards, looking thoroughly at Edward's eyes, trying to ignore the sorrow that ran deep throughout their golden pools. He couldn't find anything but gold and sorrow.

He sat back, disappointed. "I didn't find anything." Alphonse stifled a giggle as Falman switched with Breda. Hawkeye shot him a glance but said nothing.

Breda looked into Edward's eyes and froze. The pure _sorrow_ that filled them, giving golden eyes a depth that he had never seen before, and he could see _knowledge_. Knowing. He could see gold and a far too black pupil, and pure white, but no red, and he pulled back in failure. "Not even a reflection."

Hawkeye frowned, then strode forwards, grabbing Edward's chin and tilting his head up to look her in the eyes. He met her gaze steadily. She completely ignored the sadness in them; she had seen similar looks in many eyes, including her own, instead using her hawk eyes to search for red. She found no traces, not even reflections. Nothing.

She released Edward's chin. "Nothing. Not even a speck or a reflection. He doesn't have red eyes."

Alphonse was grinning widely. "Actually, he does. Show them, Brother." Edward squeezed his eyes shut. "You see," Alphonse explained, "Brother's eyes gain a ring of red around the pupils when he experiences extreme emotions like anger, or when he feels strongly."

A small chuckle. "Well, that's interesting. I always wondered why Fullmetal's eyes would flash red when angry. I didn't know that you two were Ishbalan." Alphonse's eyes flew to the man leaning against the door frame of his office. "Colonel!"

Mustang smirked. "I gotta see this." Alphonse looked back at his brother worriedly as he opened his eyes.

Everybody gasped as Edward's eyes opened. They were still the same beautiful gold, but red flames danced around his pupils. Alphonse smiled proudly. "Good job, Brother." He whispered.

Suddenly, a man dashed in and begun shaking Edward's hand frantically. Hawkeye instinctively drew her gun and pointed it at the intruder. "Oh, I'm so glad to meet you! I saw you through the door and could instantly tell! You're Xerxian!" Everyone paled. Edward tried to jerk away. "I could tell instantly! You can't be any less than half! Oh, even eighths and twentieths are amazingly hard, nearly impossible to track down! And to find a half! Amazing! To think that the Xerxian line could have remained so pure after all these years!" Edward tried to yank away again. "Who the fuck are you?" He shouted. The man kept on. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I'm Doctor Hendrikson, I'm studying Xerxes, I'm thirty-five years old, and I'm a researcher for the military. I'm afraid that I don't know who you are, but we can deal with that later. You need to come with me! I've never seen a half before and judging by your eyes, you're a quarter Ishbalan as well! I'm so excited!" He tried to drag Edward away. "Wait! What about him!" He indicated Alphonse. Dr. Hendrikson took one look at him and shook his head. "Definitely a Xerxian ancestor, but so little of it that it's not worth pursuing. Why?" Edward tried to pull away again. "Because he's my brother!" Dr. Hendrikson looked at him with that hated pity in his eyes. "You boys might share a parent, but you can't be any more than half siblings. I'm guessing whoever had the Ishbalan blood was the parent of both of you. I'm sorry." Then he dragged Edward away, leaving a room of stunned people.

Alphonse sniffled. "Mom cheated on Dad? I and Brother are only half-siblings?" He felt horrible. He'd made Edward go through so much, and they weren't even full siblings? He clung to the fact that they still had the same mother, that they were still related.

It was all he had left.

FMA

It took Mustang two days to find Edward. Dr. Hendrikson was high up in the military, and nearly all of his work was classified. It was a struggle simply to find where he worked, what his job was, and how to get there.

Alphonse had spent those two days fluctuating between anger, misery, and panic. He wanted, no, _needed_ to find his brother, needed to see him, to hear him. And he was terrified that, now that they weren't full siblings, that Edward would leave.

The entire team went with him to the place where Edward was. They were all concerned for their second youngest teammate, who had been kidnapped by a high-ranking military researcher. And now that they knew the kid was only a quarter Amestrian, there was even more danger.

It had been a shock to discover that he and Al were only half-siblings and that Trisha, sweet, kind, beautiful, Trisha, had cheated on her husband, who she had loved so much that she couldn't live without him.

Mustang lifted one gloved hand and knocked on the door of Dr. Hendrikson's house. They all waited with baited breaths, hoping against hope that Edward would be there, wishing, hoping, that he would be found. It had only been two days, but unspeakable horrors could have happened to him during those two days. And since he wasn't fully Amestrian, then it would all be perfectly legal.

A young woman opened the door. She was in her early thirties, had long blonde hair and blue eyes, and an innocent expression. "Hello," She said warily. "I'm Beth. I'm Dr. Hendrikson's wife. Are you looking for him?"

Mustang smiled his signature womanizing smirk. "Yes, we are, in fact. We believe that he has something of ours, and we'd really prefer to get it back, and the sooner the better." Beth's eyes tightened slightly, but she opened the door wider. "He's in the basement. Through that door." she pointed.

Mustang walked past her, sending her a charming smile. His team followed silently, worried. Was Edward really here? Was he hurt? Was he sick? How had he been treated?

They opened the door and began walking down the staircase. It was very small and spiraled tightly. Finally, another door could be seen at the bottom. An eye poked out of a hole in it, then disappeared.

Dr. Hendrikson burst out of the door suddenly. "Colonel! What a surprise! I didn't expect to see you here! Is there a reason for your sudden visit?" Mustang frowned, surprised. "Two days ago, you took one of my subordinates, a young Edward Elric. I have come to ask that he be returned to me, and, if necessary, use force to take him back. I trust that you know what I'm talking about?"

He watched amusedly as the color drained out of Dr. Hendrikson's face, leaving it white as a sheet. "The Xerxian boy? H-He was y-y-your subordinate?" The man suddenly looked as if he'd done something that he now sincerely regretted. "I-I-I'm sorry. He refused to say anything. I-I-I didn't know who he was. He...He isn't here anymore. I-I sent him to a camp where those few of pure Xerxian descent are being gathered. I-I wanted to go later to study how the traits diluted through time and... and their culture, and I-I-I didn't... I didn't know where else to send him, Colonel. He didn't even tell me his name. All Xerxians that are at least a twentieth and their families are being sent there for study. They...They'll all be released later, and if...if you have the right papers, then you can get him out now. I really didn't know where else to put him. Most Amestrians are either fascinated with Xerxes or extremely prejudiced against it. I thought that the boy would be best off with his own people. You understand, right, Colonel?"

Mustang sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. He could understand why the man had done it; he would probably have done the same thing, but this was ridiculous. More work. "Just tell me where you sent him." He ordered. The other man breathed a sigh of relief. "He's in the East, as close to the ruins of Xerxes as one can be and still be in Amestris. There's a little tribe there. They've been given some land to themselves, and some books and artifacts from Xerxes so that they can learn about their culture. They're encouraged to revert back to, and eventually become the desert tribe. Eventually, we hope that they can start their own country, and we've started...encouraging...this behavior."

Hawkeye stepped forwards, fire in her eyes. "And how do you 'encourage' this behavior?" The poor doctor shrank back. "Oppression. We press them and beat them down and restrict them. We force them to become Xerxian, in the hopes that they will rebel against us and form their own country. We punish them for the slightest infraction, and we are cruel to them. We make it insufferable. All that they need is a leader, and we hope that they will rebel, fighting back and forming their own country." He looked up pleadingly. "We're trying to rebuild a lost nation. Please have mercy. I was just thinking about what would be best for them in the long run."

Falman spoke up suddenly, his voice soft. "Those who are oppressed always either fight back, and keep fighting forever, never losing their pride and indignance, or are crushed and destroyed, always to be filled with shame, hatred, and anger, and, worst of all, _guilt_. I sincerely hope that it will be the former, and not the latter, Doctor. I would hate to see what would happen to you."

Hawkeye's voice sharpened. "If we are unable to get our teammate back, sir, then rest assured that you will regret sending him there with every bone, muscle, ligament, organ, nerve, vein, and soul in your body. This I swear." The man paled. He was no fool. He'd caught the reference to human transmutation that she had made, and understood completely what she meant. "T-t-t-t-the F-F-F-Führer c-c-can g-g-g-give y-y-you t-t-the p-p-papers t-to s-s-set h-h-him f-f-free. J-j-just l-let m-m-me g-g-go!" Hawkeye grinned coldly, sadistically. "Thank you. I'll let you go for now." She turned and the rest of the group followed her. She paused at the door. "If you leave, we'll find you and put you through twice the pain I've already promised you." Then they left, leaving the poor doctor quivering, his expensive trousers permanently stained with a foul yellow liquid.

FMA

Mustang came into the room. Everyone leaned forwards. "Well?" Al asked, impatient. Mustang sighed. "The Führer has apparently gone on a several-month-long diplomatic trip to Aerugo. We'll have to get the papers from him once he returns. Only those with the proper clearance can speak to him, and I, unfortunately, am not one of them." Alphonse looked like he'd burst into tears any moment. "We'll just have to wait, and if we can't get him back... " He left the sentence open. Hawkeye twirled her guns menacingly.

FMA

The months passed far too slowly. Mustang requested the hardest and most time-consuming missions, spending weeks at a time at towns and cities both large and small, hunting through the countryside and traveling. He broke the record for the most missions solved in a day, week, and month. Alphonse never left his side. Hawkeye was even more trigger-happy than usual, her hands always on her guns.

Everybody had noticed that Edward wasn't there anymore. The mere fact that you could hear him coming from the next town over meant that everybody knew when he was coming.

It also meant that everybody knew that Ed's disappearance happened to coincide with Team Mustang's strange behavior. Edward's kidnappings and heritage were now top secret, with only those involved or had a high enough rank even knowing. And even then, most of them were only told that he was part Xerxian, not the Ishbalan part, or even how much Xerxian blood was in him.

Mustang appreciated that.

FMA

The Führer finally arrived back in Central, almost a year since he'd left. Mustang was one of the first to get an appointment to see him, after stating that he'd been waiting to see him since before he'd even left.

Mustang knocked on the Führer's door respectfully. "Lord Führer? May I enter?" He called through the door. The door opened in response. Mustang stepped in and bowed. "Lord Führer. It is, as always, an honor to be seeing you."

Bradley chuckled. "Please, rise, Colonel." Mustang straightened. "Now..." He leaned forwards. "What did you want to see me for, Colonel?" Mustang almost sighed but caught himself in time. "I need the papers to get somebody out of the Xerxian camp, Lord Führer." He said. Bradley raised his eyebrows in surprise, sitting back in his chair. "Now, who would you need to get out of the Xerxian camp?" Mustang's voice never faltered. "One Major Edward Elric, sir." Bradley's eyebrows nearly disappeared in his hairline. "And how did this happen, Colonel?" He asked. Mustang's chin raised an inch. "He was kidnapped by a Doctor Hendrikson, a researcher for the military, and was sent to the Xerxian camp on account of the fact that his father is full-blooded Xerxian." A sharp gasp from one of the guards, though quickly muffled.

Bradley rose. "You won't need the papers. I'll go myself. The kidnapping of a State Alchemist is a serious crime, even if it is by a top military researcher." He smiled kindly. "Why don't you go on ahead. I'll arrive as soon as I finish up my business here, but you go tell Edward that we're going to get him out of there. Dismissed, Colonel!"

Mustang left, heaving a sigh of relief. They would get Edward back. The Führer was coming himself. It was going to be okay. It was all going to be okay.

He headed to his office to give the others the good news.

The wind changed.

Far away, under a sweltering sun, in a desert, in a field, a small** (Who are you calling a minuscule speck of sand too tiny and insignificant to be seen under three microscopes put together!) **boy with long, beautiful golden hair and firey molten eyes set planted the end of his hoe firmly in the ground and leaned on it. "تغییر در باد امروز، آل وجود دارد. من دوباره به زودی خواهید دید، من فکر می کنم." _There's a change in the wind today. I'll be seeing you quite soon, I think, Al._ The man next to him, also with golden hair and eyes, although not as bright or as golden, smiled. "من کاملا موافقم."_ I completely agree._


	3. Two

Alphonse was the first one off the train. He took a deep breath to steady himself, enjoying the feeling of air running through his lungs, of breathing. Mustang clapped a hand on his shoulder as the older man stepped off the train after him. "Don't worry, Alphonse." He reassured softly. "He'll be fine."

Alphonse followed after the older man, trusting him to know where Edward was. They'd reserved a room at the hotel via phone calls before even coming, so they didn't even need to do that. All that they had to do was find Edward.

They turned down street after street after street, this way and that until Al was completely lost and confused. Mustang led the way, and they moved in a cluster, wary. Alphonse found himself in the middle, but he understood why. He was a civilian, and he was a child civilian at that. It was their duty to protect him.

They stopped in front of a high metal fence. It was so heavily patrolled by guards that it was nearly impossible to find the fence. They parted to allow Mustang and his group through, then closed back up, sealing the gate off. Alphonse shivered. Fuery looked down at the paper that he was clutching in his hands. "According to this, Colonel, then he should be in the library at this time of day. Two rights, then a left, and it'll be straight ahead. "

This time, Alphonse led the way. He hesitated at the door of the library, looking back at the Colonel for support. At the man's nod, he pushed open the door.

The library was small but comfortable. Ten rows, all several yards long, and stacked full of books. But Al noticed that nearly all of the shelves had room for many more books, and he figured that that was because all of the books were related to Xerxes in some way, and those were hard to find.

"Brother?" He called out softly. A golden head poked out from the fourth row from the door. "برادر?" _Brother? _Edward asked, surprised. "برادر؟ خودتی؟ اینجا چه میکنی؟" _Brother? Is that you? What are you doing here?_ Al blinked in confusion. "Brother? What are you saying?"

Edward stepped out. He was wearing simple desert robes and a happy expression on his face. "من برادر شما را از دست دادم " _I missed you, Brother._ Alphonse frowned. "Did you just call me brother? That's not like you, Brother."

Edward shrugged. "بهتر است به فارسی ترجمه شود همچنین، یک کلمه بسیار نزدیک تر از یک نام ساده است." _It translates better into Xerxian. Also, it is a much closer word than a simple name._ Alphonse smiled. "Well, that's sweet of you, Brother. But why aren't you speaking Amestrian?"

Edward grinned, obviously excited. "شورش ما در برابر ظلم و ستم مردم ایران با انجام دقیقا همان کاری را که ما می خواهیم انجام می دهیم، مبارزه می کنیم!" _Rebellion! We're fighting back against the oppression of the Xerxian people by doing exactly what they want us to do!_

Alphonse stared, before bursting out laughing. "That's so you, Brother. But could you at least speak it for the teams' sake? I doubt that any of them can speak Xerxian." Edward shook his head vehemently. "سرهنگ برستر بخشی از تیم است. من برای او چیزی شبیه نیست." _Colonel Bastard's a part of the team. I ain't doin' a damn thing for him. _Alphonse stifled a giggle. "As you wish, Brother."

Hawkeye stepped forwards. "من می توانم برخی از فارسی صحبت کنم" _I can speak some Xerxian._ Edward and Alphonse turned towards her, surprised. "دانستن نحوه خواندن فارسی برای هر کیمیاگر ضروری است. دانستن چگونه به آن صحبت می کنند تنها یک گام به جلو است. من خودم کیمیاگر هستم اما من زندگی با آنها برای تمام زندگی من." _Knowing how to read Xerxian is essential for any alchemist, and learning how to speak it is just one more step. Although I myself am not an alchemist, I have lived among them for my entire life._ She continued. Edward grinned as the teams' mouths dropped. "دهان را ببند، مگس را می گیرید سرهنگ من، شما را به عنوان سخنگوی فارسی به شما تبریک می گویم." _Close your mouths, you'll catch flies. Lieutenant, I welcome you as a fellow speaker of Xerxian._

Hawkeye nodded. "من ادوارد را میشنوم و درک میکنم."_ I hear and understand your welcome, Edward._

Edward nodded back at her, before turning to his brother. "آیا شما آمده اید تا من را به خانه ببرید؟" _Have you come to bring me home?_ Alphonse grinned, excited. "بله فیرر خود را برای رسیدن به فردا آماده کنید!" _Yes! The Fuehrer's coming himself to release you tomorrow!_ Edward's face lit up. "واقعا؟ من نمی توانم صبر کنم" _Really? I can't wait!_

A man in a blue military uniform came dashing up to them, out of breath. "My...apologies, Colonel...for not...being able...to greet you...at the door. I am...the Lieutenant Colonel...in charge here." Mustang nodded. Edward turned on the poor Lieutenant Colonel with a malicious look in his eyes. "سلام، نام شما چیست. ما مجذوب خود هستیم و قصد داریم شما را برای بدرفتاری خود بکشیم. ما قصد داریم یک جنگ یهودی معکوس ایجاد کنیم و جامعه جدیدمان را در ویرانه های ایران بسازیم. ما یک پادشاه و همه چیز را انتخاب کرده ایم! ما هر چه میخواهیم انجام میدهیم" _Hello, whats-your-name. We're rebelling and intend to kill you for your wrongdoing. We intend to stage a reverse Ishbalan War and build our new community in the ruins of Xerxes. We've chosen a king and everything! We do whatever we want._

Mustang looked at Hawkeye enquiringly. She shook her head. "I'm sorry, sir. This is above my limited knowledge of Xerxian." Al looked scared. "Do you really mean that, Brother?" He asked. Edward turned and smiled. "نه مگر اینکه ما قبل از اینکه فجر به اینجا برسد سرکوب می شود و من بیرون می روم" _Not unless we rebel before the Fuehrer gets here!_

If possible, Al looked even more scared. "Then we'd better hope that he gets here quickly." He murmured. The Lieutenant Colonel glared at Ed. "You know that I don't speak your language, Xerxian."

The team shared a look. This must be the oppression that Doctor Hendrikson was talking about, to attempt to force the Xerxians back to their home. And from Al's face, it was succeeding.

Edward turned back towards Al, completely ignoring the fuming Lieutenant Colonel. "من باید بروم، برادر. کار دارم. بیا زمانی که فجر وارد می شود، بله" _I must go now, Brother. I have work to do. Come find me when the Fuehrer arrives, okay? _Alphonse nodded, tears springing to his eyes at the sight of his brother, leaving.

Edward headed off, lazily waving a hand behind him. Tears sprang back to Alphonse's eyes at the gesture that was so very Ed, even in this unfamiliar place.

FMA

"امشب است" _Tonight. _Ed looked up at the other man, who had golden hair and eyes and unusually tanned skin. "شما مطمئن هستید؟" _Are you sure? _The man nodded. "قطعا"_ Definitely._ Edward sighed, looking down. "باشه" _Okay._ He hauled himself up. "من آماده ام آماده باشم" _I'll go get ready._ He started walking, steps slow. The other man watched, sad. If the rebellion wasn't tonight, if it was the next night instead, then Edward would have gotten to go home. Instead, he was being forced to fight a bloody battle to move into ruins, and might never get to go home.

"خوب، برادر، حدس می زنم فقط باید کمی طولانی تر صبر کنم؟" _Well, Brother, I guess I'll just have to wait a bit longer, huh? _Edward asked. There was no response. There never was, not after Al had left. His brother wasn't there, but Edward had a purpose right now. His brother could wait a bit, right?

He walked off down the hall, heading for the fifth door on the right from the other side of the hall. He paused outside of it. He was nervous. No, more than nervous. He was scared. What he was about to do... it might be counted as treason. He might never be allowed back into Amestris again. He might be unable to help Al.

But these people needed his help. Hohenheim was in Amestris. He could find a way to get Al back to normal. Al had the Colonel Bastard looking out for him, and he had Granny and Winry to take care of him. Al would be fine without him.

But these people wouldn't.

Edward hesitated, before closing his automail arm on the knob and twisting it open. It was dark in there. The windows were sealed, and the door had special blockers. The only light came from candles that made the old man inside seem old and powerful. They danced, creating flickering shadows that almost seemed to be alive. "اولین. آمدی." _First. You came._ Edward nodded. "بله من آمدم." _Yes. I came._

The old man's face softened. "من می دانم که این برای شما سخت است. با تشکر از شما، اول." _I know that this is hard for you. Thank you, First._ Edward looked away, unwilling to meet the kindness within them. "اجازه دهید فقط این کار را بکنیم."_ Let's just get this over with._

The man nodded, and no more words were necessary.

FMA

Edward looked at himself in the mirror, eyes set with determination. He looked different. This was how he might look for the rest of his life if he never returned to Amestris.

Try as hard as he could, he liked it. He couldn't find anything wrong with it. It looked and felt right. "خوب، حدس می زنم نمی توانم میراثم را پنهان کنم."_ Well, I guess I can't hide my heritage._ He said softly. The old man clapped a hand on his shoulder gently. "مثل آن یا نه، شما نمی توانید میراث خود را، ادوارد، انکار کنید." _Like it or not, you cannot deny your heritage, Edward._ He told the boy softly. The boy nodded, still gazing at his reflection. "میدانم."_ I know._

A man burst into the room. "کشیش، اول. این شروع شده است." _Priest, First. It has begun._ He stated, bowing to the old man and Edward in turn. The old man was a priest of the sun, one whose job was to know everything that they possibly could about alchemy. Edward had taught this priest almost all that he knew. It was the guy's job, after all. His name was an old one, Khurshid. Only priests of the sun were given old names.

Khurshid was already used to the title Priest, by which he was almost always addressed. He answered with a slight incline of his head and swept grandly out of the room.

Edward, on the other hand, was very unused to his title of First. He had arrived at the Xerxian camp almost a year ago, and they had started to call him First before the first month was over. But one year wasn't enough time for Edward to get used to his new position.

The First was a title that the Xerxians had invented for him. First meant coming before all others, going where they had never dared to go, and leading others to follow the same path. It meant leader.

First did not mean King. The King was the ruler, the one who made laws and rules and the one that everybody obeyed. The First was the leader, the one that they would follow. The one to show them the way to go. This was why the King and the First had to be in complete agreement, because everybody would follow the First, their leader, instead of their King, which would lead to the King being overthrown.

For such a new title, one that had been invented not even a year ago, there sure were strict rules about it already.

Edward wasn't used to it. He was now the most important person in the Xerxian community, simply because he showed up and did what he thought was right. And when he made a grievous mistake, he would admit it in a heartbeat, because he never made small mistakes. Every single mistake that he'd ever made in his entire life was huge.

But for some reason, these Xerxians saw Ed, hurt and confused and angry, just like they all were, wondering why they were being punished and oppressed, and they saw him stand up and shout back at them, taking punishment after punishment, protecting others at no cost but his own, and tricking them. And then he had come to the Xerxians, and he gave them his plan, and he asked them to help him. "I can't start a civilization by myself," he'd said, "But I can start one with you." And he'd laid bare his plan, keeping no detail hidden. He'd told them, in no uncertain terms, that if they followed him, they'd never be able to return to this country and their families. Some of them had been able to bring their families with them, like the man they chose to be King, Melchior, who'd brought his wife and three daughters along, but some, like Ed, had been unable to bring them.

He'd told them that they might be plunged into a horrible, bloody war, for what could be years upon years upon years on end, and might even be captured and their civilization ended. He'd told them that they might never see their families again. He'd told them that they might all be killed.

And then he'd told them that if they were willing to go along with it, then he'd take all the blame. He'd be the one to start everything, the one to start the rebellion, the first one to take a life. If they would follow him, then he'd be the first to go. He would have the most to lose.

And they'd all, every single one of them, from the little children still wearing diapers and sucking their thumbs to the big adults with rippling muscles and kind hearts, had all said that they would take the risk. They would all follow the first one to go.

After that, they'd all started calling him the First. Eventually, Edward had gotten so annoyed that he had yelled at them. "IF YOU'RE GOING TO KEEP CALLING ME THAT, THEN MAKE IT AN OFFICIAL TITLE OF XERXES OR SOMETHING!" And they actually did it.

The King, Melchior, wrote as the First Lawe in the Booke of Xerxian Lawes that 'The Title of First shall be bestowed upon the one in the Country with the moste leadership, the one that the People shall follow with all of themselves, even over the King or any other ruling Body. They shall be the One with the moste determination, the moste will, and they shall be the first one to speake up, the first one to do what is Right. They shall be strong enough to take the pain and guilt of Fault. There shall only be one First at a time, and only when the right First is found. The First must be chosen by the Peoples of the Country, and may only rise to the position of First with a unanimous decision from all of the Peoples of the Country that they should be currently attempting to take the mantle of First from. The First muste be One that the People can looke to for inspiration and guidance. The Title of First shall be the moste important Title in the Country, even over that of Ruler.'

Edward had cried once they had shown that to him. He had cried and cried and cried, cried out all the pent-up emotions that he'd held over everything that had happened over his short life. And they'd held him and soothed him, and helped him get back on his feet after he was done. And ever since then, he'd been called First by all but his closest friends except at formal meetings, where _everyone _had to call _everyone _else by their titles.

But he still wasn't used to it, to being somebody important, and he blushed, embarrassed, before following the Priest out to the library, where he would mount the charge on their prison.

He was stared at by everybody. Every Xerxian recognized him, of course, but none of the guards did. The same Lieutenant Colonel that had been in the library earlier gazed at him openmouthed as the half-Xerxian swept by, sending him a proud smirk as he passed.

He paused at the door to the library, looking inside. Every single Xerxian was gathered there, along with a ton of guards. Standing there, he took a deep breath and kicked the library door open Fullmetal Alchemist style, and began to talk.

"ایرانیان ما، ما برای جمعآوری این افراد برای سرنگونی افرادی که ما را در زندان نگه میدارند و حقوق ما را از دست میدهند، نه به گوش من در مورد این که چرا باید این کار را انجام دهیم، شما باید قبلا بدانید چرا. همه شما تصمیم گرفتید این کار را انجام دهید

اراده آزاد شما و من در مورد شما نمی دانم، اما من شخصا با تمام این گاو انجام می شود. ما قصد داریم آنها را در جایی که درد می کند، بکشیم، و ما قصد داریم کاری را که می خواهیم انجام دهیم اما هیچ یک از ما می توانید این کار را تنها انجام دهید. من به کمک شما نیاز دارم. لطفا لطفا، لطفا به من و سر من، همسایگان من، مراجعه کنید. " _Fellow Xerxians, we are gathered here to overthrow the people that are keeping us imprisoned and taking away our rights, not to listen to me blabber on about why we should do this. You should already know why. You all chose to do this of your own free will. And I don't know about you, but I am personally so done with all of this shit. We are going to kick them where it hurts, and we are going to do what we want. But none of us can do this alone. I am going to need your help. So please, please, please follow me and my lead, fellow Xerxians. _As he spoke, he felt the guards exchanging confused looks. As his speech ended, he whipped around and kicked the guard behind him where it hurts, just like he'd promised, making the first move, as was his right and duty as the First of the Xerxian People.

The room exploded in pandemonium. All of the Xerxians went for the closest guard to them, quickly overpowering the bemused and startled guards. At first, none of them went for the kill, but when Edward went ahead and killed the next guard he fought, the rest of the Xerxians followed suit.

Soon, the halls were filled with men that were either dead or dying. There were no woman guards in this place, as the captain was very sexist, and believed that whatever women could do, men could do twice as well.

Edward leaned against the wall, gazing tiredly down. He was outside, looking out over bloodstained plains. They had killed all 786 men that were stationed here, as well as their 365 servants and 298 trained dogs. They had taken all 807 horses and were gathering them to use for the long trip to the desert. They would be long gone by morning.

The sand was stained red by blood. It would fade in time as all else did. But the memory of what they did here would forever stain them. Him most of all. It had been his idea, his plan.

"اولین." _First. _A man said, walking up to Edward, leading a golden horse along. Edward identified him as Arthur, a leading archeologist, or at least he had been before being sent to the Xerxian camp. "من اسب شما را یافتم. رنگ آمیزی زیبای آن به من از شما یادآوری کرد، اگر فکر نکنید که من اولین بار این را می گویم."_ I found you a horse. Her beautiful coloring reminded me of you, if you don't mind me saying, First._ Edward smiled a real, genuine smile, and stood up straight to take her reins. She neighed softly, and he climbed on her slightly awkwardly because of his height **(He was not short, damn it! The horse was just freakishly tall!)**.

****(Pick whichever horse you think that Edward would have. I'll refer to both coats as gold.)****

Arthur gently took the reins from the exhausted First, who slumped down on his horse. "استراحت، اول. ما می توانیم آن را از اینجا بگیریم." _Rest, First. We can take it from here._ Arthur said softly, voice carrying gently across to the other Xerxians of the group, who had been slowly gathering with their horses near their First. They all nodded in agreement.

Slowly but surely, the descendants of Xerxes made their way back to the ruins of their ancestral home, leaving behind 1,449 corpses on the bloody sand of the former Xerxian containment camp.


	4. Three

"Führer." Mustang saluted as Bradley stepped off of the train. He nodded his head. "Colonel." He turned slightly; nodded again. "Alphonse." He turned back to Mustang. "What's the situation, Colonel?"

Mustang's expression turned grave. "The Xerxians did as you wanted, sir. They staged a rebellion, killing every single man stationed there. They took their horses and killed their dogs. In total, 1,449 souls were lost on our side."

He took a deep breath. "With the Xerxians, there was a State Alchemist by the name Edward Elric, better known as the Fullmetal Alchemist. He was apparently the one who instigated the rebellion, the one who organized it, and the first one to take a life. He fled with them to the ruins of Xerxes, where they are currently rebuilding the great city. It is currently unknown if he did this of his own accord or was forced, sir."

Bradley smiled at him. "Good job, Colonel." His face turned serious. "It does not matter if Fullmetal did instigate the rebellion. He knew that was what we wanted, so he helped things along. However, he feared retribution and fled with the Xerxians to their ancestral home." He turned to Alphonse. "Alphonse. Amestris is going to try to open diplomatic relations with Xerxes. We are going to ask to visit to negotiate a return of our State Alchemist. I'll take you with as a diplomat and as his brother. Colonel," He turned towards Mustang, "You'll be coming too, as a diplomat and as his superior officer. You'll be helping me convince the king to return Fullmetal to us." Both Alphonse and Mustang nodded and saluted. "Sir!" They cried in unison.

Bradley smirked as he turned away. He hadn't expected it to go that well. He had ordered the guards to drive out the Xerxians, force them to rebel. He hadn't expected that the Fullmetal Alchemist would get caught up in the whole mess. He should have known. The boy was a lot like his father, but Hohenheim had never had the fierce instinct to protect as Ed always had. Ed had always dived in head-first to protect people, never caring about the consequences. He would protect to his dying breath, especially those he cared about. Yes, this gamble had really paid off. This could work out extremely well.

He never stopped to consider that leading the Xerxians would be good for Ed. He never considered that Ed, along with every other alchemist worth his salt, could read Xerxian. He never stopped to think about the valuable knowledge hidden under Xerxes' walls, or the ancient alchemy that Ed could learn there. He didn't stop to think of any of it.

FMA

Ed grinned, popping up behind King Melchior and throwing an arm around him. "هی، ملوچیور". _Hey, Melchior. _He greeted. The king jumped slightly, but turned and smiled at the Xerxian boy. "سلام اول," he replied. _Hello, First._ Edward sighed. "آیا تا به حال متوقف شده اید که من تماس بگیرید، Melchior؟ من مدت ها قبل از عنوان شما دور شدم" _Will you ever stop calling me that, Melchior? I did away with your title long ago._ Melchior smiled brightly at the child. "نه اول من همیشه شما را با آنچه که هستید، می گم" _No, First. I shall always call you by what you are._ Edward groaned, before perking up. "آیا شنیده ای؟ فدرر برادلی به من میآید و من را به خانه میبرد. من نمی دانم او چه فکر می کند، اما ادعا می کند که من تحت شرایط نادرست قرار گرفتم و برای او کار می کردم، بنابراین مجبورم به خانه بروم. آیا خنده دار نیست؟ آنها درباره موقعیت من در اینجا نمی دانند. من نمی توانم منتظر بمانم تا چهره هایشان را پیدا کنند."_ Have you heard? Führer Bradley is coming to get me and bring me home. I don't know what he thinks, but he claims that I was brought here under false conditions and that I work for him, so I have to come home. Isn't it funny? They don't know about my position here. I can't wait to see their faces when they find out!_ Melchior nodded, face serious. "اول از دست ما هستیم." _We will miss you, First. _

Edward smiled at him. "برمی گردم." _I will return._ He grinned cheekily. "علاوه بر این، من اساسا مردی هستم که در اینجا مسئول است نمی توانید بیش از حد بلند شوید، درست است؟" _Besides, I'm basically the guy in charge around here. Can't leave you hanging too long, right?_ And Melchior sighed in relief. He loved Ed, loved having the Xerxian around, the one who, even amongst others of his blood, shone bright gold. For he was more Xerxian than any of them, a half instead of an eighth or a twentieth. Fully gold, all the way down to his golden heart. And he was beautiful, almost godlike, with his long golden hair loose and his beautiful, sad, golden, eyes full of mischief and playfulness. He looked like the old Xerxian god Ahura Mazda, the Wise Lord. He was beautiful. He was godlike. He was amazing. And he didn't even know it, and that was what made him even more special.

Edward smiled at him, gently tugging at the golden circlet that everyone had insisted he wear. "من مانند حق امتیاز هستم" _I feel like royalty. _He laughed. Melchior smiled. Ed was royalty, whether he'd realized it or not. He was the leader of the country, and the leader is always more loved than the ruler. That seemed to be a universal fact.

"خوب، اول، شما اساسا حق امتیاز هستید تو بالاتر از من هستی و من سلطنتی هستم، بنابراین شما باید تنها چیزی باشد که بالاتر از یک حاکم باشد ..." _Well, First, you are essentially royal. You are above me, and I am royal, so you should be the only thing that is above a ruler ... _ He trailed off. Ed blushed an interesting shade of pink as he realized what the king was implying. "من خدا هستم شما، دیوانه، ملچور هستید؟ من خدایی نیستم من حتی حق امتیاز ندارم! چنین خضایی نگویید!" _Me, a god? What, are you mad, Melchior? I am no god. I am not even royalty! Do not say such blasphemy! _

And Melchior laughed; he threw back his head and roared to the heavens, because if Ed wasn't a god then gods didn't exist, because Ed had to be one. He was too perfect to be anything else. Ed watched him cautiously, considering whether or not to call for help. Finally, he shook his head. "شما دیوانه هستید، می دانید که، درست است، ملچیور من هیچ خدایی نیستم، من سلطنتی نیستم، و شما نباید چنین خضایی را صحبت کنید." _You are crazy. You know that, right, Melchior? I am no god. I am not royalty. And you should not speak such blasphemy._

Melchior could not help but think that it could never be blasphemy to compare this angel to the gods, but instead a compliment of the highest degree to them. If Ed wasn't a god, then he was a human of exemplary character and love. He'd given up his home and family to stage a rebellion with people he'd only known for months.

And then Ed laughed. "هرچند من هرگز واقعا در مورد مذهب بزرگ نبودم. همه چیز خیلی خوبه برای سلیقه من. به نظر من، اگر خدایان با خدایی کوچک به جرم شکنجه شوند، پس آنها باید اخراج شوند و ما باید خدایان جدید را استخدام کنیم، کسانی که به راحتی خود را از دست نمی دهند." _I never was really big on religion, anyway. All too stuffy for my tastes. In my opinion, if the gods get offended by a little blasphemy, then they should be fired and we should hire new gods, ones who won't lose their tempers so easily._ His eyes sparkled with mirth and joy, and Melchior couldn't help but join in.

But then Ed grew serious. "آینده برادر فیرر او را و سرهنگ بریستار به عنوان یک "حزب دیپلماتیک" آورده است. لعنتی، همه آنها. به نظر میرسد که آنها ربوده شده یا چیز دیگری هستند." _Brother's coming. The Führer's bringing him and Colonel Bastard as a 'diplomatic party'. Damn bastards, all of them. It's as if they thought I was kidnapped or something._ Melchior fell silent. They did, didn't they. Amestris believed that they had kidnapped Ed. _Ed._ Who would kidnap Ed? They thought that they had taken the golden boy hostage or that they would refuse to allow him access to his own home country. Wouldn't they be surprised when they learned the truth, that Ed was really the one in charge of them all.

"ملچور؟" _Melchior?_ Ed questioned. "مشکلی هست؟" _Is there a problem?_ Melchior shook his head, banishing all thoughts of someone actually daring to hurt Ed. _Ed._ How could anyone ever hurt him? "نه هیچ چیز. نه چیزی نیست." _No. Nothing. _He reassured the child. Edward frowned, but let the subject slide. It didn't seem that important. Melchior had a reputation as a man to often daydream about nothing, especially in the middle of important conversations. He'd just space out and stop talking suddenly. It was nothing.

"در این صورت ، ملشیور ، بهتر است برویم. ما با كتابدار و دبیر قرار ملاقات داریم تا در مورد رژیم جدید سازمان صحبت كنیم." _In that case, Melchior, we'd better get going. We have an appointment with the librarian and the secretary to discuss the new organization regime. _Ed said, gesturing to the door. Melchior couldn't help but chuckle as he held the door for his superior, who frowned at him, before sighing and giving up, heading to the newly-rebuilt library, Melchior walking one step behind and one step to the left of him.

Ed just gave up. They would do as they would do, and if they wanted to follow him around, they could. He couldn't control other's actions, and especially not the king of Xerxes.

FMA

The Führer stepped off the train first, followed by Colonel Mustang and Alphonse Elric, as well as a guard of soldiers, all mildly armed and wearing ceremonial dress. They were greeted not by soldiers, but by a crowd of civilians, not a weapon to be seen, and hard faces, some lined with mirth.

One man stepped forward, bowing at the waist, hands placed palm-to palm before him. He wore blue robes with purple braid and embroidery. "با سلام ، بازدید کنندگان عزیز. امیدوارم که از اقامت خود لذت ببرید. من البرز ، تبریک فارسی ، دیپلمات و تنظیم کننده مهمانان هستم. من اینجا هستم تا شما را به پادشاه و رهبر ما برسانم." _Greetings, dear visitors. I hope you enjoy your stay. I am Alborz, the Xerxian greeter, diplomat, and arranger for guests. I am here to bring you to our king and leader._

Bradley motioned Al forward, who clumsily copied the gesture. "من آل الریک ، دیپلمات و مترجم رهبر آلمان هستم. ما در اینجا هستیم تا برادرم ، اد الریک را بازیابی کنیم و او را با ما به آلمان برگردانم. امیدوارم که دو کشور ما بتوانند دوست خوبی باشند." _I am Al Elric, the diplomat and translator for the Führer of Amestris. We are here to retrieve my brother, Ed Elric, and bring him back to Amestris with us._

Alborz straightened, but his hands stayed together. "درست از این طریق ، لطفا. آنها منتظر شما هستند." _Right this way, please. They are waiting for you. _He turned and started for the palace.

Al turned to Bradley. "He's taking us to the king."

Bradley smiled down at him. "Thank you."

And they set out for the castle, First Alborz, then Bradley, then Al and Mustang, then the ceremonial guard. The citizens made way, parting before them like a wave, not moving, not bowing, but parting to let them through. The children's faces were alight with mirth, the older faces blank, hiding amusement. Everyone knew what was happening.

The restoration was going extraordinarily well for it having been only a few days. The whole palace was basically remade by now, only the decorations and a few details to be ironed out. The whole place was still bare and there was still rubble lying in stacks against the walls, but the entire building was intact, with many of the surrounding buildings either already built or well on the way to being built. There were many less tools than Al had been expecting, and a lot of the distinct marks of alchemy. This place had been rebuilt mainly by alchemy.

As they entered the palace, they passed servants dressed in traditional Xerxian servant garb, carrying this and that, some cleaning, some lugging buckets of rubble away. None of them paid a whit of attention to the newcomers, instead going about their business quietly, some talking softly in Xerxian.

Until they saw Al. Instead of simply continuing their work, some of them actually stopped and stared at him in awe. He heard the word first repeated over and over again, along with brother. Did they know what had happened to Ed? What did first mean?

But he said nothing, simply continuing to walk behind the Führer in silence. Admit it or not, he was terrified. If the rumors were true, his brother had killed. Ed. What had happened? He had seen his brother, talked to him mere hours before the attack. What had happened in those few hours to cause such a change?

When they reached the throne room, Alborz spoke quietly to a woman in armor guarding the door, who popped her head in and relayed the instructions to someone standing just inside. Less than a minute passed before the door opened again and Alborz motioned them inside, the door closing behind them.

Guards lined the walls, each one of them with a knife in a sheath on their left side and a sword sheathed on their right, except for a few for which it was noticeably switched. They were all dressed in simple armor, a few with feathered plumes on their helmets. They all saluted as they entered, Al looking around in wonder.

Alborz knelt. His voice rang out, speaking Amestris with a slight accent, as if it was legitimately his second language. Al recognized it with a start; his own brother had had a Xerxian accent for several years when they were younger, as he had learned Xerxian before Amestrian. "Your highness, may I present the Führer of Amestris, King Bradley, traveling with diplomat and translator Alphonse Elric, Colonel Roy Mustang as a guard for said translator, and his ceremonial guard."

Al, following everyone else's lead, bowed from the waist, straightening up only after a moment and looking the king in the eyes. He didn't recognize the man at all, or the woman sitting next to him, or the three girls sitting regally beside her.

"Greetings, Führer, Alphonse, Colonel. It is an honor to have such distinguished visitors to our country when it is as of yet still newborn. I am the king of this country, Melchior. This is my wife, Anahita, and my three daughters, Azar, the oldest, Arezoo, the middle child, and Bahar, my youngest." The king stood up, bowing his head to them. Al could see the resemblance to Ed, the shared blood of the long-lost Xerxians. The shining golden hair, the bright golden eyes, traits shared amongst all four of the members of the royal family that sat before him. The princesses wore red circlets on their heads, the queen wore a golden tiara studded with gems, and the king wore a crown studded with the same gems.

Bradley lifted his gaze to Melchior's eyes, who met his gaze steadfastly. "King Melchior, I am here to request the return of one of my State Alchemists. He is a legal citizen of Amestris, and still has several years left in his military contract. He is bound by law to return to Amestris to complete his remaining years in the contract. I formally request his return."

Melchior sighed. "Well, at least you ask for something easy. We've all known this was coming, ever since we came here. We were all preparing for much more outrageous demands. Ed, stop hiding and come out here, please."

The abrupt change in speech and and conversation startled Al, who had not been expecting the king to suddenly change the conversation like that.

"Do I have to?" Ed's childish, petulant voice filled the room, and Al couldn't help but sigh in relief. His brother seemed unharmed, although the same Xerxian accent he'd had as a child had come back full strength.

A small grin crept onto Melchior's face as his girls started to bounce. "Yes, Ed. You have to. Your brother is here, and you have to go back with him. You've got a promise to fulfill, remember?"

A small, petulant sigh. "You can't order me to do anything."

Melchior's grin grew bigger as he called back, "True, I can't but I can _ask _you to go back with your brother. Also, I can lock you in a closet without your automail and broadcast a live feed to all of Xerxes. You'd be mobbed within seconds."

Al stifled a laugh. This Melchior fellow sure knew how to get his brother to do something he didn't want to do.

"Fine! Fine, I'll come out! But don't except me to be happy about it!" Stomping noises, then a curtain flew open and Ed stomped out... only, Al almost didn't recognize him. His hair was loose, cascading over his shoulders in waves of iridescent gold, so bright that Al could barely believe he hadn't gone blind yet. His skin had tanned slightly, and muscles rippled on lithe limbs, made strong from hard work. A circlet of pure gold rested on his forehead, a red gem sparkling in the exact center. He was wearing simple lavender robes with a golden chain around his neck. His arms were bare. He had two piercings in each ear, one a golden cuff high up on the helix piercing, the other a dangling blue piece that Al had seen a few Amestrian women wear down on his earlobe. His eyes were glowing with an inner light and fire that Al had only seen a few times before.

It took his breath away. He was beautiful, stunning, dangerous. He looked like a god about to ride into battle and fight to his last breath, beautiful and dangerous and golden. And despite himself, he felt his mouth open and a cry escape him, childish and vulnerable and scared. "Brother?!"

Ed's face lit up, and he hurried over to him. "AL!" He wrapped his younger brother in a massive hug. "I've missed you so much! I wish you could've come with me! It's amazing here! We did away with the slavery of old, made our own currency, found and remade the old robes, are well on our way to rebuilding, and our laws are getting made right now! It's been amazing!" He pulled back, looking into Al's tearful face. "What's wrong, Al?"

Al started sobbing, tears flowing freely down his face. Ed immediately knew what was wrong, gathering him into gentle arms. "Hey, it's okay, Al. I don't care about whatever you think I care about, okay? You're still my brother, I still love you, I'm definitely not mad at you, I don't care who our parents are, I don't care about whatever you think I care about. What's wrong?"

Al pulled back slightly, looking his brother in the eyes. Somehow, he didn't have to say a word. Ed knew, as always. "It's okay, Al."

Ed took a few steps back, releasing Al slowly, then returning to stand by the king's side. Melchior grinned at him, then returned his attention to Bradley. "Now, to the boring part. We need to discuss terms and all that boring stuff. First, why don't you go show your brother around?"

Ed jumped down, offering his arm to Al. "Come on, Al. I'll show you around. Better than all that boring legal stuff, right? Thank Ahura Mazda that I don't have to deal with any of that! I do still have to do a lot of boring stuff, but that comes with the job, I guess."

Grinning through his tears, Al took his brother's flesh hand, shaking his head slightly. "Sure, brother. What have you been doing here?"

Grinning brightly, Ed pulled Al out of the room gently, racing down the hall with him. Al stumbled slightly, surprised. Ed was acting like he had when they were kids, before everything had gone wrong. Before Hohenheim left, before their mom got sick, back when Ed still spoke Xerxian first and Amestrian second, and had a heavy Xerxian accent. Back when he always seemed so wise and smart, yet still played and laughed and ran.

Now, he was usually heavy and cold and serious. He didn't run or play or laugh like he used to. He was still smart, but he had lost that otherworldly wiseness. He spoke Amestrian perfectly, without even a trace of accent. When he was a kid, he had been close to perfect. As he got older, he lost that.

Now Al understood. He had read that Xerxians tend to need other Xerxians around to be fully immersed in themselves. When Hohenheim, the greatest source of Xerxian energy in the world, had left, it hadn't just hurt their mom and Al's heart. It had hurt Ed's Xerxian soul, a full half of him, and he'd never quite recovered. Their mom and him had fulfilled the Ishbalan and Amestrian parts of his soul, but they had too little Xerxian in them to help him, and that part of him had slowly starved. The part of him that was Xerxian had slowly died, only sustained by Al's meager Xerxian blood, which, although quite high for the times they were in, was not enough to keep Ed's Xerxian soul alive.

And the beautiful child that he had been had slowly withered and died, replaced by the half he had left, the Ishbalan quarter and the Amestrian quarter, the lesser parts of himself. And those parts of him had tried hard, but when their mother had died, he only had Al to keep both the Xerxian and Ishbalan parts of himself alive, and there just wasn't enough. Those parts of him had starved, deprived of much of their sustenance.

And they had survived, even if just barely... until Al's body was lost. Their last food source cut off, those parts of Ed had died completely, leaving behind only the seeds to grow anew. He'd had to try and take sustenance from the people around him, and, looking back, Al could remember who Ed had taken from.

Hughes had been partly Ishbalan. He was less than them, only about an eighth, but Ed had taken all he could get. Scar had been fully Ishbalan, and just being near him had given Ed new strength. Many of the people around them had either Xerxian or Ishbalan blood deep within their histories, and Ed had sucked up every drop he could get, keeping those minuscule seeds alive within him.

The Amestrian part of him had been the only part to stay strong, the only part of him to, not only refuse to fade, but instead grew stronger. That had been all of his soul that had survived, all that was keeping him together, all of him that had survived their hard life.

But here, surrounded by people of recent Xerxian descent, some of them with Ishbalan blood, Ed had begun to grow again, had had the seed planted. And it had grown, had taken back its place within him. He was back to the child he had once been.

Al couldn't help crying as he dashed through the halls on his brother's heels, the speed causing them to fly from his eyes behind them, leaving a sparkling trail behind him. He knew it wouldn't last, that, once they left, the sprouting sapling that was Ed's Xerxian side would fade and shrink back into a seed, but he hoped that he would be enough to keep it alive this time.

He decided to just enjoy this brief respite, this brief time with his brother, his true brother, his half-Xerxian brother. His brother, with golden hair flying out behind him and molten eyes that glowed gold and red, that for once were filled with nothing but joy, with no sorrow anywhere to be seen.

And everyone that saw them could agree that his eyes had never been brighter.

FMA

"...and over there's my tower, yeah, they actually gave me a whole tower! Freaking Xerxians, they sure are determined! Next to that's the royalty wing, where the royal family resides. Right now there's only the king and queen and their three daughters, but that'll change soon. Azar's almost of age to be married, and her oldest child will be heir to the throne after her. Once Melchior thinks she's ready, he'll step down and she'll become queen.

"Anyway, next to that's the priest's wing, where all the priests live when they aren't in their temples and shrines and wherever else priests go. Oh, hi, Khurshid! He helped me get everyone here safely. He's a priest of the sun, whatever that means. There's also the rest of the wings, which are being used to house everyone whose houses we haven't rebuilt yet.

"Anyone can basically pick out any house, put a marker on it indicating that the house has been claimed, and then just move into it whenever it gets rebuilt. Then we'll rebuild all the unclaimed houses and send people out to calculate their worth and put them up for sale.

"The kitchens are right down there, along with a few other things that we aren't using right now, like an armory. There's also a pretty big courtyard, along with a few places for practice. There's also an alchemy room and an alchemy ground, along with an experiment room. We probably won't be using those for a while, since very few of us are alchemists.

"Here are some of the servant's quarters, for those who wish to live here instead of wherever their home is, or servants who come from far away. Over here, next to that, is the refugee's quarters. Over here are the guest rooms, which are massive. They're almost as big as the royal chambers!

"That's about all we've got redone in the castle for now, so I can probably stop talking about architecture now. I'm probably boring your head off," Ed called back to Al as they continued their breakneck sprint through the halls. Smiles, laughter and waves followed them on their wild journey. Apparently, everyone here knew Ed.

Ed grinned back at Al, slowing his breakneck pace to a more respectable walk. His robes trailed behind him, flaring out in a way that Al suspected wasn't entirely natural. He wondered who his brother was wearing lavender. Wasn't purple usually reserved for the royal family? And how in the world did they know he'd look so good in it? Al would never have guessed that his brother would look good in lavender. Maybe bright red, but not lavender.

Ed grinned brighter, coming to a halt. "I need to pack. Want to come with me? You can help me decide what to take and help me fold. You know I'm rubbish at folding clothes."

Al giggled. "Sure, brother. Where are your rooms?"

Ed pointed to a staircase besides them. "The palace is rounded. We just came full circle around this floor. My rooms are technically this whole tower, but I only really use the top floor. It has nice ventilation. He led the way up the stairs, uncharacteristically quiet. The passed floor after floor, heading up the tower for what seemed to be an inordinately long time.

Finally, they reached a door, which Ed swung open, gesturing Al inside. Al took a step in, looking back at his brother nervously. Ed grinned at him, stepping inside and closing the door behind them. "All my stuff's in that dresser." He gestured at a simple wooden dresser painted white. "My clothes are in the middle, jewelry in the top, and miscellaneous in the bottom." He grinned at him. "Your stuff's in the closet. Clothes are hung up, miscellaneous on the shelf above, and jewelry above that. You can choose what you want to keep. I found all that left over. If you want any, then there's a pack on a hook in the wall. If you don't, just leave it here. I'll find another use for it."

Al turned and smiled at him. "Of course I want it, brother! I might not be half Xerxian, like you, but I'm still part Xerxian. This is my heritage too. I might not know as much as you, but whatever you're doing here, I want to be a part of it."

Ed grinned. "Great! You'd better get picking, then. I'm pretty sure you don't want me packing for you, right?"

Al grinned, turning to the closet. "That I don't, brother," he agreed, surveying the clothes critically.

FMA

Ed slowed as they approached the throne room. "Let's hope they're done with all the formalities. I'd hate to have to try to explain all this over paperwork."

Al shot him a worried look. Explain what?

The guards pulled open the doors as they entered, saluting Ed as they passed. Al watched, confused. Special rooms, salutes, that golden circlet... was all that because he was a State Alchemist? There seemed to be something more here than him just being a State Alchemist. What was he missing?

They walked calmly into the throne room. Melchior stood up when they entered. "Greetings. The paperwork is finished. I assume you have packed?"

Ed nodded brightly. "Yep, we've packed. I'll take it this means I've been cleared to return to Amestris?"

Melchior nodded. "You've been cleared. You have free range to go from country to country as you wish. I have offered your brother the same courtesy as well. You've both been granted full citizenship to both countries as well. I hope you'll return to our grand country soon. Journey well, First. من خودم برای شما فدا می کنند. به امید دیدار." He bowed, startling Al but not seeming to phase the adults, who seemed unflappable.

Ed bowed back. "به امید خدا, ملکیور." Straightening, he grinned. "I'll be back next time I get a vacation. Don't get too stressed out with me gone, okey? Great!" He turned and spun out of the room, the guards opening the door as he got near.

Al quickly hurried after him, the rest of the Amestrians following after. No time for formalities with Ed around, he thought wryly. Rapid-fire, quick, out-the-door crazy fast. Ed never stopped.

And so, none of them caught the fond looks from the king and queen. The smirks between guards. Amestris was in for a big surprise. The Ed they were getting wasn't the same Ed they'd sent away. He'd woken up, and he was burning, burning bright and burning fast, encased in heat and fire and passion, full of fiery rage. They'd awoken him, brought him back to life, planted the seeds within him. And now he was burning.

Burning like the sun.


End file.
